


At Death's Door

by Megane



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad Luck, Canon-Typical Violence, Combat, Death, Final Thoughts, Healing, Magic, Moments of Clarity, Shapeshifting, Spoiler Free Territory, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: Noctis, Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio come across an enemy during their  adventure. That's pretty typical for them, but today wasn't a typical  day.





	At Death's Door

**Author's Note:**

> Based off Rue's picture of [Noctis with an auto-revive crown](https://twitter.com/ruebirds/status/800199207978049536).

This should have been a routine kill. Yeah, it was still a little weird for him to think that way, but that was just the way life worked for him. He was more than just a prince now. He was an adventurer, an amateur mercenary.

A survivor.

Usually, he was anyway, and today shouldn't have been any different. Today- you guessed it- should have been an average kill. But it wasn't. It wasn't that he wasn't on his A Game or that he was particularly foolish or clumsy today. He was just unlucky. As plain as that.

He heard the cries from everyone else. He saw his friends get knocked aside as they tried to protect him. It was fairly routine. It happened often enough, but still, the sight of them getting knocked aside because of him left a stone like pain in his stomach. He took in a deep breath and conjured his stave, twisting his hands backwards as the weapon gracefully turned backwards in the air. He caught the stave with both hands and jutted it forward, coming in contact with the armoured front of his opponent. But this beast was not having it. The mimick changed its shape into that of a woman's and stared Noctis in the eyes. A fiendish grin bent the pretty, scarred lips. The mimick's hands gripped the stave's body tightly. And then there was blinding pain.

It was like a punch straight through his chest. It came in a flash, literally knocking Noctis backwards off his feet. He could see his limbs outstretched in front of him. The mimick lifted its head victoriously as the weapon dissipated between its hands. In slow motion, he watched as Ignis turned and called out for him. The beast reverted to its true form, and Noctis could only wish he was able to stop it.

There was a hollowness in Death and a peace-like clarity within it. In that instant, he was suddenly aware of how many times he toed the line by faking out and avoiding Death. There was a detached sense of pride. There was a thrill in narrowly avoiding Death and in being able to charge forward, hand in hand with Life. But he was done expertly avoiding the clutches of the infinite cold.

Death had finally come for him.  
Noctis' heart gave one final, painful beat just before his body hit the ground. The sound resounded through him. Oh, how final it sounded and felt. What awaited for him was darkness, but it wasn't immediate and all consuming. There were visions as well, flashes of everything there was and could have been. The clarity was so strong; his spirit felt a weighted regret at its departure. Or was that just the essence of him tenaciously holding on? Hard to say...

He could feel the others fighting around him; he could even sense who came close to failing and who was close to victory. The otherworldly knowledge disturbed him, but as his breath left him in a final whisper, he supposed it didn't matter. Noctis' hand rose, trying vainly to reach out to someone or something, but then it limply hit the floor next to his head. Death had him, and his mind had finally closed to all things around him.

Pain. Again? But this was a new pain. Life corded through him with a crisp coolness. His heart started again with a single stab, a beat. The newness flowed through his chest, and he was suddenly aware again of everyone and everything, but the awareness made his head throb. He was alive again.

Noctis shook his head as he sat up. He brought a hand to his chest as he hungrily took in breaths. His lungs felt weighted down. His heart beat erratically in his chest. It was screaming 'I'm alive! I'm alive!' The shock of it all made Noctis feel dizzy, but he managed to roll over to his right. On hands and knees, he blinked down at the ground before coming to stand up on his feet. With one final shake of his head, the world cleared around him. He felt a tight grip on his arm and a hand on his shoulder. A tall figure stood in front of him, sword brandished. He nodded his head to dismiss the worried voice. He was alright; he was alright. He wasn't done yet.

Noctis ran, strafing around their enemy that was on its last legs. He felt the weight of his conjured sword. For a moment, it felt different. He was shockingly aware of his ephemeral state, but he threw the sword and sent himself after it. The shrill and vengeful scream of the mimic reminded him that he was well and truly alive.

But he knew it was only a matter of time before Death came for him again.


End file.
